


You're The One That I Want

by kjack89



Series: Prompt Drabbles [5]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Dancing and Singing, Drabble, Fluff, Grease - Freeform, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 18:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1277167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is directing the musical <em>Grease</em>, but can't quite get a scene right. Grantaire volunteers to help him show how it should be done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're The One That I Want

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously based on the 2007 revival of _Grease_ , since that version incorporated a lot from the film.
> 
> Short and fluffy. Explanations are probably needed for why Les Amis are doing 'Grease', who decided Enjolras should direct a show like Grease, etc., but eh I wrote this back in September and forgot to post it until now so really any explanations I once had I very much no longer do. So there we are.
> 
> I own nothing.

"Cut!" Enjolras called, almost throwing his clipboard down in frustration. Grantaire finished playing the measure of music on the piano and Enjolras glared at him until his fingers skittered to a stop. "Courf, Cosette, your performances are…they’re just  _off._ ”

Courf turned to glare at Enjolras, his curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. “I’d like to see you come up here and do better,” he snapped through clenched teeth. “This choreography is fucking hard, Enj.”

Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not the choreography,” he sighed. “It’s…the chemistry, for lack of a better term. Cosette, you’re telling him that he needs to step up his game, to be the man you need, but you’re acting too…infatuated with him.”

Cosette threw Marius, who was backstage, a slightly guilty look. “Well then what would you suggest, Enjolras?”

Sighing, Enjolras rubbed his forehead tiredly. It was his first year directing the school musical and he had had Grease foisted on him against his will. And while Cosette and Courfeyrac actually didn’t make a bad Sandy and Danny, and Éponine made a  _fantastic_  Rizzo, with a remarkably scathing version of “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee”, at the moment, for this particular scene, the sizzle and passion between Courf and Cosette was missing.

Enjolras sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of the best way to convey exactly what he was looking for to Courfeyrac and Cosette. “What I need is someone who knows the dance and can do it with me to demonstrate,” he said frustratedly, more to himself than anyone else.

“I can do it.”

Wheeling around, Enjolras narrowed his eyes at the source of the words, at Grantaire, their accompanist, who was sitting - slumping, more accurately - on the piano bench, eyes red-rimmed, still smelling strongly of liquor. Enjolras wrinkled his nose and asked skeptically, “You, Grantaire? You don’t even know the dance, and besides, who would play the accompaniment?”

Grantaire shrugged, rolling his shoulders backwards. “I can do it a capella,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Enjolras. “Can you?”

Enjolras flushed. “Of course I can. That doesn’t answer the question of whether or not you know the choreography.”

Standing and stretching, Grantaire favored Enjolras with a smirk. “Try me.”

He climbed onstage and took his mark, facing Enjolras, who huffed and glared back at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said curtly.

Grantaire’s grin widened and he ran a hand through his hair. As he did so, his posture changed - he stood up straighter, his shoulders relaxed, and when he next met Enjolras’s eyes, it was with a cocky grin perfect for Danny Zuko. “I got chills, they’re multiplying, and I’m losing control.”

He stepped towards Enjolras, hitting each beat perfectly, confidence in every step. “With the power you’re supplying - it’s electrifying!”

When he reached Enjolras, he dropped to his knees, hands lingering on Enjolras’s hips, his grin savage. Enjolras glared down at him and lifted his leg to push Grantaire down with his foot. “You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man, and my heart is set on you.”

He backed away from Grantaire as he sang, and right on cue Grantaire sprang to his feet to follow, more athletically than Enjolras would have expected, and his eyes widened slightly with surprise. “You better shape up, you better understand, to my heart I must be true.”

“Nothing left, nothing left for me to do,” sang Grantaire, his voice growling seductively as he wrapped a hand around Enjolras’s waist.

Enjolras pulled away from him, Grantaire matching him step for step as they sang, “You’re the one that I want, oo oo oo, honey, the one that I want, one that I want, the one I need, oh yes indeed.”

Now it was Enjolras’s turn to be the aggressive one, and he did so, running the tips of his fingers across Grantaire’s shoulders as he circled behind him. “If you’re filled with affection you’re too shy to convey, meditate in my direction - feel your way.”

“I better shape up, ‘cause you need a man,” sang Grantaire.

“I need a man who can keep me satisfied,” Enjolras returned, his face and Grantaire’s only inches apart as they sang back and forth.

There was something indefinable in Grantaire’s eyes, something that made Enjolras want to blush and look away, as he sang, “I better shape up if I’m gonna prove…”

“You better prove my faith in you is justified.”

“Are you sure?” Grantaire’s voice was breathy, questioning.

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile slightly as he sang, “Yes, I’m sure down deep inside.”

The second chorus followed the same choreography as the first, and Enjolras felt himself relax a little, appraising Grantaire’s moves. For all of his other apparent faults, Enjolras did have to admit that Grantaire was  _good_.

But there was more to it than just being good. As Enjolras watched Grantaire follow him around the stage, his eyes dark with desire, he swallowed hard, feeling something unexpected in the pit of his stomach. The look in Grantaire’s eyes, though perfect for the character, was not entirely unfamiliar, though the cocky, confident edge was foreign to Grantaire, and Enjolras felt his face flush as he thought of what that might mean.

Luckily, the next part of the choreography was tricky, involving lifts and a few other things, and Enjolras was forced to get refocused, prepared for Grantaire to drop him or something like that. Instead, Grantaire lifted him effortlessly, his hands firm against Enjolras’s hips, and he swung him through all the steps without missing a beat or messing up a single note. Enjolras was almost breathless from the physical proximity and, of course, being spun around the way he was, but he still managed to hold his own, ending with the final, “You’re the one that I want!”

To his immense surprise, instead of setting him down straight away, Grantaire dipped Enjolras as the last note faded away and kissed him, softly, ignoring the sudden whoops that erupted from the ensemble. Then he set Enjolras back on his feet and took a mocking bow, his fingers lingering for a brief moment on Enjolras’s wrist.

Enjolras had no idea how he was supposed to react, and settled for staring at Grantaire in confusion. “Why the hell didn’t you audition?” he asked finally, when he had recovered slightly.

Grantaire just shrugged as he headed back to the piano. “Didn’t feel like it.”

Enjolras just gaped at him for another moment, then closed his mouth, swallowed, and forced himself to turn back to Courfeyrac and Cosette. “So, uh, did you see what I meant?”

Courfeyrac was grinning wickedly. “Oh, I  _got_  it,” he said, cryptically.

“Yeah,” added Cosette, sporting an identical grin. “Yeah, I see  _exactly_  what this scene has been missing.”

“Right,” said Enjolras, his mind somewhere else entirely. “Then, um, run it from the top.”

Enjolras just barely made it through the rest of rehearsal, and when he had dismissed everyone else, he walked over to the piano, leaning against it awkwardly as he looked at Grantaire. “You went off script a little there at the end,” he told Grantaire lightly, trying not to blush at the memory.

Grantaire just smiled slightly. “Did I?” he asked mildly, gathering up all of his sheet music. “Oh. Whoops.”

Then he crossed over to Enjolras, bending forward to whisper into Enjolras’s ear, “You’re the one that I want,” before heading toward the door, leaving Enjolras staring after him, completely confused (mostly as to why he had the sudden urge to sing “Hopelessly Devoted to You”, or else follow Grantaire and kiss him again).


End file.
